


Open Your Heart For Me

by toomuchpink



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 17:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchpink/pseuds/toomuchpink
Summary: The worst part of finishing a job is coming home.





	Open Your Heart For Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkSilverWings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSilverWings/gifts).



> So this was inspired by a suggestion given to me by Glass on the discord, which was Eames + new hairstyle. Think of Tom Hardy as Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights and you have some idea of what it looks like. I haven't really got anything else to say so bye <3

The worst part of finishing a job is coming home. Waiting to board the plane, the hours spent in the air, the long drive back to the house. Arthur hasn't seen Eames in seven months. Seven fucking months. And Eames wanted to meet at the cabin in Alaska. Which is fine. Arthur can survive over twenty hours of travel. Probably. The cabin is tucked away in the forest, shrouded by firs and blanketed in snow. It’s easy to miss if you don’t know how to get there, but Arthur’s knows the route by heart. He knows the way like it’s been etched into his very bones. 

The lights in the cabin are off, which is to be expected, because Eames knows better than to compromise their safety. Arthur disables the security system, unwinds his scarf from his neck and makes his way to the bedroom where he knows Eames will be. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, book in hand. 

"What the fuck,” Arthur says, jaw dropping. There's this  _ thing _ on Eames' head. It's all black and matted and it has pine leaves in it. There’s bits of hair sticking up in every direction and it’s ugly. Really fucking ugly. Eames looks up and has the audacity to look scandalised. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he asks. Arthur glares at him with feeling, coming to his side and tugging at the clumps of hair to try and make them lay straight. They don't. 

"Your hair is more offensive than the word ‘fuck’, you asshole. What did the hell did you do?” 

"I dyed it," Eames replies, beaming up at him. He takes Arthur's hand in his and presses a kiss to his palm. 

"You dyed it. Then refused to wash it. Then stopped combing it. Then let birds nest in it. Then you rolled around in a fucking tree-” 

Eames laughs, cutting him off, and pulls Arthur into his lap. "I missed you so much you wouldn’t believe, pet.” Arthur can absolutely believe. The past seven months have been abjectly awful. He was so cranky that even Ariadne had been avoiding him. He screamed at the chemist for making a minor error with the compound. The extractor kicked him out of the warehouse and told him to get laid after the third time in a day his projections converged on the team within five minutes.

“I think I have  _ some  _ idea of how it was,” Arthur just knows his dimples are showing, because he’s smiling so goddamn hard, “Give me a little credit.” Eames kisses each dimple and tugs him into a kiss. It’s slow and indulgent as if they’re relearning the shape of one another. His mouth is so warm and soft and familiar. Eames sighs a little into the kiss and something in Arthur just gives. He pulls him impossibly closer, desperate to eliminate any space between them. Eames trails kisses down the length of his neck, sucking a bruise into the curve of his collarbone that leaves Arthur gasping. He works his hands into Eames’ hair and pulls away. 

“You’re going to cut this off.” It’s not a question.

“Yes, darling.” Eames’ face is open and lit up with that smile that’s reserved just for Arthur. Arthur huffs, pulling him close and gently pressing his lips to the corner of Eames’ mouth. 

“Thank god.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [@toomuchpink](http://toomuchppink.tumblr.com) on tumblr


End file.
